milk teeth

a simple truth

2011-11-26T18:13:00.000-08:00

(photo by emman montalvan, via ben travoto)

less really is more. i've got a thing for the girls and the boys that get that. every now and again i can appreciate the over-accessorized look, but overall it's not my bag. at all. i like to see the shape of someone, uncluttered by too many possibilites. i like when someone makes small honest gestures that reveal who they are.

king of cool

2011-08-26T18:04:00.000-07:00

image via curious graffiti

image via go rightly

image via matty bing 1025

steve mcqueen— a man's man, through and through. and handsome as hell, to boot.

glamour death transformation

2011-08-20T15:25:00.000-07:00

'glamourdeathtransformation', a video recently released by photographer silja magg and fashion stylist masha orlov that was directed for the bookzine, tiwimuta. ratatat was into the video and used it for their song 'imperials.' it's easy on the eyes, but also dark and pretty damn unnerving.

oh johnny

2011-08-08T22:06:00.000-07:00

image via the infinite pattern

johnny cash wrote 'to do' lists. just that alone says a lot about the man. and then, the things he put down tell you pretty much everything you need to know.

the breakaways

2011-08-06T18:46:00.000-07:00

kreayshawn

image via rap genius

maluca mala

image via filigree feline

melody ehsani

image via ecstatic freshness

kesh kumari

image via 2 dope bitches

i like pretty girls who don't play it safe. i mean, i like anyone who doesn't play it safe— anyone who runs a little wild, who talks too much, who blunders and breaks things and knows how to keep going, whose got spirit and momentum and restlessness, and just the right amount of mischief in them.

barbarella

2011-06-28T01:20:00.000-07:00

image via vintage gal

image via womenandcats

image via bob crane's roller boogie

image via bobby pin

jane fonda was such a babe.

dancehall queen

2011-06-12T21:36:00.001-07:00

(image via thebvx)

(image via island def jam)

these shots are from rihanna's video "rude boy". i'm so into this 80's dancehall vibe. the in-your-face style, the big bold colors. just super rad looking. i'm not necessarily a huge fan of rihanna's music, but the video for this song is all awesomeness.

killing it

2011-06-06T20:47:00.000-07:00

(image via last gas station)

the hundred in the hands. i love this band right now. i like they way they look together. i think she is adorable and her name— eleanore everdell— is too wonderful...it sounds like the name for a clever little girl out of a storybook...a girl full of wit and adventure and puzzling details.
here is my favorite song of theirs.

the end of it all

2011-05-28T12:31:00.000-07:00

(image via a year without candy)

i'm reading charles bukowski's post office. it's a real banger. full of folly and something close to swagger, but not quite because the space in between every word is saturated with such sadness and despair. but still, the "fuck it, fuck the world, fuck you" moments run all over the place in this novel, and that definitely makes it a fun read. and there are sections that work like a straight, fast arrow that come right at you, hard and quick, breaking through your skin before you even know what hit you.
for me, this bit just nails it down—
God or somebody keeps creating women and tossing them out on the streets, and this one's ass is too big and that one's tits are too small, and this one is mad and that one is crazy and that one is a religionist and that one reads tea leaves and this one can't control her farts, and that one has this big nose, and that one has boney legs...
But now and then, a woman walks up, full blossom, a woman just bursting out of her dress...a sex creature, a curse, the end of it all.

swagger

2011-05-20T18:47:00.000-07:00

a heroic age

2011-04-30T21:19:00.000-07:00

ernest shackleton
(image via wikipedia)

tom crean, 1915

(image via 10 downing)

carsten borchgrevink, about 1898

(image via national archives of australia)

"heroic age of antarctic exploration"— a period of about 25 years from the end of the 19th century to the early 1920's when the exploration of the antarctic became an international focus. i love the the sound of it...heroic age of antarctic exploration...the syllables roll off the tongue and the words are leaden with meaning— all the implications of bravery and fortitude, adventure and endeavor, and grave grave danger. i'm reading a book right now about ernest shakleton's 1914 expedition and the failures and challenges him and his men encountered, and the heavy duty struggle to survive that they endured. it's practically unfathomable what they had to go through, and that they somehow managed to make it out alive. i've always obsessed over adventurers, explorers, wanderers, pioneers— the push, the drive, the madness, the totality of commitment, and the balls to have a daily dialogue with death.

a private affair

2011-04-27T23:38:00.000-07:00

brigitte bardot in vie privee, 1962.

easy pieces

2011-04-27T21:04:00.000-07:00

(image via the sartorialist)

this is my kinda outfit. about as perfect as it gets.

wild ideas let loose

2011-04-27T20:50:00.000-07:00

(image via grab the wheel if you love me)

bunny dressing by michael sowa.

this piece throws me right back into childhood. all that adventure time— the forts, the wilderness walks, the games with my brother...but mostly the time alone, just me and the family animals, who to me were like people... the hours spent in their company, the stories i created for them, about them... all those wild ideas i let loose around them, as they silently and patiently put up with me.

a kind of fever

2011-04-18T00:15:00.000-07:00

(image via samalamaropey)

i have this feeling inside— a kind of fever. a spring fever, i guess. nostalgia is mixed in there too, not for something i've ever had, but for something i haven't. i keep getting flashes of my mother's youth... the 60's, the 70's... i see her so vividly, my imagination and memory hard at work. i'm scared i'm not living as full as she did. i'm scared all the good stuff just goes away, so quickly, so easily. but there is this wild little fever beginning to burn inside of me, reminding me i'm still young and there is still so much up ahead.

the apache

2011-03-27T23:09:00.000-07:00

the apache dance was popular in Parisian street culture at the beginning of the 20th century. supposedly it was a kind of reenactment of a violent "discussion" between a pimp and prostitute...a theatrical rendition of street savagery and the struggle of survival.

a single dose is all it takes

2011-03-21T18:49:00.000-07:00

keira knightley

(image via posh 24)

claudia schiffer

(image via rdujour)

kate moss

(image via mystic medusa)

elle macpherson

(image via rdujour)

All of these women have tapped into something pretty simple— a single spectacular dose of leopard print can make all the difference. The print brings an instant cool factor to pretty much any outfit, taking someone from plain Jane territory into the realm of rebels, sex kittens, trailblazers, class acts, and bon vivants. It's not for the faint of heart or shrinking violets, it's for those who want to cut a wide swath for themselves and know how to keep their cool along the way.

back on the map

2011-03-21T17:02:00.000-07:00

(image via elliebalfe)

This look from Derek Lam's Spring 2011 collection takes a classic 70's silhouette out of the fashion archives and makes it current. The high waist and wide legs of the jeans are slimming, the blouse is crisp, and the thin belt sleekly emphasizes the waist. This outfit could easily move from day to night, delivering impact at every turn. It's a look that embodies a pared down modernity that is so 2011, yet still manages to reference the easy, carefree spirit that the 70's were all about.

as good as gold

2011-03-20T23:48:00.000-07:00

(image via sneakerfreaker)

(image via nah right)

(image via dallas observer)

santigold is rad. her whole deal is genre-less, indefinable... she is just a mash-up of influences, a rare bird of style and substance. and if you didn't know that she used to be in a punk/ska band called stiffed, you need to listen to this song...

plain & simple

2011-03-19T19:50:00.000-07:00

miranda july

(image via venuszine)

josephine de la baume

(image via the vivian girl)

liv tyler

(image via joujou villeroy)

the plain white tee. preferably cotton. preferably 100%. there is nothing quite like it. understated, classic, crisp...but somehow managing to convey a sense of toughness too... i think of cowboys and mechanics and james dean. i think of cigarettes rolled up in the sleeves. it's simple, it's perfect, it's straightforward american cool.

want list

2011-03-17T23:16:00.000-07:00

the lake and stars business model pebble knit bra

(image via journelle)

matt and nat zocalo bag

(image via arcadia boutique)

adam shearling trimmed cotton jacket

(image via the clothes whisperer)

turquoise triangle ring with wedding band

(image via hotpieceofclass)

rachel comey hitch boot

(image vis solestruck)

bardot, bringing it

2011-03-06T15:45:00.000-08:00

because i can never get enough of her.

(image via pie shops)

the world ablaze

2011-02-23T15:06:00.000-08:00

"the best and the worst", by charles bukowski

in the hospitals and jails
it's the worst
in madhouses
it's the worst
in penthouses
it's the worst
in skid row flophouses
it's the worst
at poetry readings
at rock concerts
at benefits for the disabled
it's the worst
at funerals
at weddings
it's the worst
at parades
at skating rinks
at sexual orgies
it's the worst
at midnight
at 3 a.m.
at 5:45 p.m.
it's the worst

falling through the sky
firing squads
that's the best

thinking of India
looking at popcorn stands
watching the bull get the matador
that's the best

boxed lightbulbs
an old dog scratching
peanuts in a celluloid bag
that's the best

spraying roaches
a clean pair of stockings
natural guts defeating natural talent
that's the best

in front of firing squads
throwing crusts to seagulls
slicing tomatoes
that's the best

rugs with cigarette burns
cracks in sidewalks
waitresses still sane
that's the best

my hands dead
my heart dead
silence
adagio of rocks
the world ablaze
that's the best
for me.

(image via popartmachine)

two-tone poem

2011-02-21T00:21:00.000-08:00

(atlanta de cadenet, image via oh fashion models)

(vanessa paradis, image via prickly thorn sweetly worn)

(isabel lucas, image via object fashion)

oh, just exactly the kind of hair i like.

atomic

2011-02-19T19:36:00.000-08:00

(image via nydailynews)

(image via xkookymonsterx)

(image via marlene44)

(image via nancyrommelmann)

"you know, when i woke up this morning i had a realization about myself...what i realized is that at some point i became dirty harry. i couldn't be blondie anymore, so i became dirty harry."

—debbie harry quoted from the no exit tour book

11 songs for flesh, bones and blood

2011-02-19T12:46:00.000-08:00

1. blood of the lamb- billy bragg & wilco
2. the ballad of the raa- the rural alberta advantage
3. w.i.a.d.f.y- elliott brood
4. lies- antennas
5. valerie- mark ronson feat. amy winehouse
6. my best- lilly wood & the prick
7. obsessions- marina & the diamonds
8. spend the night- deer tick
9. angels- black mountain
10. the air near my fingers- the white stripes
11. hippie, hippie, hoorah- black lips

(image via twistedvintage)

find the wound

2011-02-18T15:02:00.000-08:00

(image via here)

today i read an interview at one story with writer josh weil. when asked about some of the best writing advice he has ever gotten, he said that his mentor mark slouka told him "find the wound."
i think that's the most perfect advice i've ever heard for a writer. because in the end, that's what we are always after...finding a way to get to the inside, where the throbbing is...

the wild ones

2011-02-18T10:06:00.000-08:00

james dean and co-star cory allen in a scene from "rebel without a cause"
(image via the independent)

paul simonon of the clash
(image via snuh tumblr)

from bruce davidson's photo essay, "brooklyn gang"
(image via surrender)

damn, rebellion can look good.

open roads

2011-02-17T12:23:00.000-08:00

(image via cinema.de)

this is a shot of laurie bird and james taylor in the movie two-lane blacktop.
it makes me think of open roads, afternoon shadows, body heat, and how good someone else can feel.

a field day

2011-02-08T00:00:00.000-08:00

chives
(image via cat's_in_blue's flickr)

prairie blazing star
(image via aok)

lavender
(image via planted at home)

i want to get out of the city. i want to sit in one of these fields under a bright sun, and eat sliced fruit and drink lemonade. i want the hours to move slow, the day to be drowsy. i don't want to think about anything that needs to get done. i want to blink and squint and sigh, and have it feel like forever. if anything happens I want it to be a surprise. but i wouldn't mind if nothing happened. if there was just a field and a day and the sun...that would be enough.

animal tracks

2011-02-07T01:01:00.000-08:00

photograph by andrew zuckerman
(via animal talk)

photograph by tim flach
(via famhove)

photograph by evan kafka

(via feature shoot)

i grew up with loads of animals. some of them quite unusual— at different times my mother brought into our lives: a donkey, a jackal, spotted civets, a yellow-throated marten, goats... but the usual suspects were ever-present— dogs, cats, horses, birds, bunnies, guinea pigs, mice... i very much enjoy the company of animals. they have entirely individualistic personalities, and i find them endlessly entertaining to watch and interact with. i think these 'portraits' are incredibly powerful— they capture the force of character that lives inside those strange and wonderful animal bodies.

rave on!

2011-02-06T10:42:00.000-08:00

(image via the citrus report)

rehearsing at the Trocadero, 1958
(image via guardian.co.uk)

buddy holly and waylon jennings in a photobooth at new york's central station, jan 23, 1959
(image via witlox's flickr)

charles hardin holley, better known as buddy holly, was only 22 when he died. it's almost painful to imagine where his life would have taken him if he hadn't gotten on that plane. the things he would have done...but still, despite being so young, he somehow managed to leave so much behind. rock n' roll just wouldn't be the same without him...and man, did the kid have style...

baby's breath

2011-01-28T16:52:00.000-08:00

(image via adore vintage)

(image via the frisky)

(image via chictvmodels)

lindsey wixson. i think she is only 16. she looks like a baby...so fresh, so full, so brand-new looking. her mouth is a permanent 'o', full of awe and wonder....her teeth elicit playground memories, pre-braces, pre-insecurity, pre-concern...her eyes are sloping and sleepy, nap-time eyes, believing eyes.
...i can't wait to see what she looks like when she is all grown-up.

looking sharp

2011-01-27T00:00:00.000-08:00

(image via nomehagascaso)
luca luca pre-fall 2011

(image via harper's bazaar)
fendi pre-fall 2011

(image via fashionologie)
stella mccartney pre-fall 2011

(image via guilty and glamorous)
jil sander pre-fall 2011

i like how ladylike they look. all the geometry, all the angles, all the architecture. the severity that still breathes out a slight wisp of sexuality. they look like perfect and very particular secretaries.

leaves move in the windows

2011-01-26T14:51:00.000-08:00

(image via leanda at flickr)

leaves move in the windows. i cannot tell you yet how beautiful it is, what it means. but they do move. they move in the glass.
...these lines are from william h. gass's story in the heart of the heart of the country. a story of lists. a story of isolation and observance, heartache and hauntings. a story of landscape. of people. of loss.
read it. read the whole collection. it might change what storytelling means for you.

man about town

2011-01-24T16:38:00.001-08:00

i found this video at loose leaf tigers and was totally awed by how beautiful it is. i love the song, the styling (particularly his turquoise socks), and how perfectly it captures the spirit of individuality and creativity...and what it is like to be in the moment of doing what you love...the silence, the focus, the freedom from "the outside world" that overcomes you.
rodney mullen i guess basically invented this sort of freestyle skating, and he seems like a pretty amazing dude. I watched some youtube footage of him skating and some interviews...you could check him out here and here. the kid in this video is killian martin...obviously tipping his hat to mr. mullen.

the secret life of moss

2011-01-14T17:18:00.000-08:00

cemetary wall near annesley church, nottinghamshire, great britain
(image via geograph)

the moss covered eldraun lava field on the south coast of iceland
(image via the telegraph)

(image via gloria gery's romania journal)

i've always had a thing for moss...and the way landscapes change under it. they become moody, mysterious, full or secrets and unexpected possibility.

body heat

2010-12-21T00:05:00.000-08:00

(all images via viktorvautier.blogspot.com)

i found this guy's photoblog. a lot of it looks like american apparel or vice or something like that. but i'm into these shots. they are so 80's. all that hair, bouncing and moving, too much of it, so luxe. and those sexy girls...they look like some real broads... full on, full-blown women.

kid kate

2010-12-15T23:22:00.001-08:00

(image via rdujour)

sometimes she still looks like a kid. like the way she did when i saw those first shots of her years and years ago. I was a 15 year old girl, or maybe I had just turned 16...and she stared out at me from the page of a magazine.

the untouchables

2010-10-31T18:51:00.000-07:00

“Mexican American female gang” (c. 1942), Los Angeles Daily News, Calisphere.
(image via latinahistories)

i think the look of these kids is too cool...their whole deal is kinda untouchable. particularly the one sitting in front, the one with her chin tilted. the pretty one. but also the tough one. she looks like she isn't fucking around.

madeleine

2010-10-24T20:18:00.000-07:00

madeleine au bois d'amour, by emile bernard

via autour de l'impressionnisme

i went to the de young museum today to see the post-impressionist masterpieces brought in from the musee d'orsay. though it was pouring rain and cold, i had a belly full of french toast and was ready to spend the whole day checking out art. there were lots of amazing pieces, but this one kinda killed me. I sat down on the bench in front of it and decided to not move for a bit. I just wanted to keep looking at it. the museum was crowded and people kept filing past, some of them stopping for a bit to look at "madeleine", some not stopping at all. i just kept looking... i'm taken with the colors... the vertical darkness of the trees, the bright band of greenery, the shadowed water, that long stiff flattened body of the girl, her pale ankles, the big hand at her waist, that far-away look on her face...

child's play

2010-10-12T15:04:00.000-07:00

i could watch these for days. there are a ton of them. i turn into a kid in front of them...that sleepy kid, that kind of spaced out kid that hasn't quite woken up yet and is allowed to watch sunday morning cartoons while mom fixes up breakfast... that kid whose hair is ratty and tangled all the way up from the nape of the neck to the crown of the head...that kid who is sitting too close to the tv and any noise or light or motion not coming from it just comes and goes completely unregistered. this is all it takes to get me into that 6 year old stupor-bliss.

what i'm thinking about

2010-09-07T15:19:00.000-07:00

image via my sparrow

"if it's true that depth-of-characterization in fiction is analogous to degree-of-acquaintance in life, then it would be similarly true that the deeper the characterization achieved, then the less clear we'd be about a character's motivation in a story."
—from the "knowing your character" chapter of
writing in general and the short story in particular
by rust hills

"empathy....one might even go so far as to say that the experience is an involuntary projection of ourselves..."
— from the penguin dictionary of literary terms and literary theory

"i had to try to get the feeling by the use of two or three words..."
—from a 1933 letter written by ernest hemingway to everett r. perry

what i want to wear right now

2010-09-06T23:24:00.000-07:00

from my polyvore

an easy guarantee

2010-09-05T14:55:00.000-07:00

moussy fall 2010 ad campaign
featuring abbey lee kershaw
image via sandi in the city

isabel marant fall 2010 ad campaign
featuring kate moss
image via filmifi

etam fall 2010 ad campaign
featuring natalia vodianova
image via design scene

parted mouth, mussed-up hair, sloe-eyed, and a bit of remoteness=guaranteed sex appeal

fall into line

2010-09-04T15:50:00.000-07:00

chloe pre-fall 2010
image via tais-toi, sois beau

whit fall 2010
image via refinery 29

elizabeth & james fall 2010
image via mama's a rolling stone

the always unafraid

2010-09-01T21:06:00.000-07:00

zippora seven
image via lashings of style

daisy lowe
image via pedestrian tv

cintia dicker
image via fotolog

obviously the girls are beautiful. and i especially like the kind of beautiful they are— big-lipped, broad-cheeked, with eyes wide apart. but what i like most about them in these images is that caught-off-guard-but-still-bold look in their eyes, almost defiant...somehow tender and vulnerable, somehow goading...there is an invitation, a challenge in those looks...and a clear sense of self-satisfaction...and self-determination. they have the look of the always unafraid.

a confession

2010-08-30T18:16:00.000-07:00

image via counterforce

i recently and randomly read a time magazine essay from may 18, 1970 called "violent protest: a debased language"...a key paragraph got me thinking...

The ultimate debasement of language, of course, is violence...—most dissenters turn to violence in a desperate effort to communicate their profound feelings of grievance. Yet surely this is too crude a way to get their message across. A bomb, for example, lacks specificity; its meaning is as scattered as its debris...Violence is, essentially, a confession of ultimate inarticulateness.

and then the words and ideas filtered down, and what really got a hold of me was— violence is, essentially, a confession... of what exactly? of everything that lives inside us but can't get out, of everything that exists but can't be named, of everything we want acknowledged but instead has always been met with disregard, intolerance and neglect. violence then, is a sad confession of our fragility and weakness, our tragic inability to perfectly express our existence...

in cold blood

2010-08-25T21:19:00.000-07:00

portraits of clutter family murderers dick hickock & perry smith
taken by richard avedon, 1960
image via this isn't happiness

i'm about 70 or so pages out from the end. i told myself i wouldn't look up what perry and dick really looked like till i finished the book. but i just couldn't wait. even though i know i will finish the book later tonight... i couldn't stop myself. these portraits are astounding. i'm undone and overwhelmed and my heart is racing. i had no idea their photos would say so much. i had no idea i would feel so much.
truman capote breaks into the story with measured beats, and though the pulse of his language often gathers into sharp and clear points , it keeps a steady ever-haunting and gripping pace—
5 pages in and capote writes:
but then, in the earliest hours of that morning in november, a sunday morning, certain foreign sounds impinged on the normal nightly holcomb noises— on the keening hysteria of coyotes, the dry scrape of scuttling tumbleweed, the racing, receding wail of locomotive whistles. at the time not a soul in sleeping holcomb heard them— four shotgun blasts that, all told, ended six human lives.

and this is the bit of text that keeps playing over and over in my mind as i look at the photos of dick and perry... i can see and hear and smell those shotgun blasts...those blasts that killed the clutter family of four, and later, and less directly, dick and perry...

a bit of brilliance i found:

2010-08-23T22:21:00.000-07:00

THOSE FIRST FIVE MINUTES

Finally realizing that though the person you’ve been talking to obviously likes you, they haven’t been laughing at your jokes.

Finally realizing that the person you’ve been talking to has an appearance completely incidental to their personality rather than essential to it.

— from alice at ornament of my might

the map is not the territory

2010-08-19T11:52:00.000-07:00

image via malibu magazine

image via sfcitizen

image via why don't you...

john baldessari— conceptual, californian, absurd, ironic..."suppose it is true after all? WHAT THEN?"

american ease

2010-08-17T22:42:00.000-07:00

ash jalouse boot
image via polyvore

rachel comey penpal short boots
image via polyvore

charles david bryden boot
image via amazon

aren't all these boots absolutely perfect for fall? i love their simplicity and functionality, and i think they are timelessly good-looking. but seasons don't really matter much to me 'cause i live in boots all year long. i guess it's because san francisco is always boot-wearing-weather, and i walk everywhere so i like a bit of practicality, and i have a dog so i'm in the park pretty much everyday, rain or shine. i feel most at home in boots— at ease, unrestricted, footloose and fancy free. hmmm...that seems so american, so frontiersman-like...wow... how "out west" of me.

prodigal son

2010-08-09T22:58:00.000-07:00

photo by glen friedman, via flickriver

image via the barstool romantic

i just watched dogtown and z-boys again. there are some really gorgeous moments in that film, in the story it tells— movement, ideas, images...ragged youth, rough-edged talent, bright things, attitude... the gathering, the building, and then the dissipation, the scattering. these photos are all of jay adams— an orginal z-boy...influential, individual, fearless...the real thing.

the force of youth

2010-07-19T20:49:00.000-07:00

image via newyorkette

i don't have as many photos of my mother when she was young as i would like. the ones i do have feel precious, like they belong in a jewel box and not a photo album. there is one in particular that i love. it's of her laying out with her mother on a beach somewhere, maybe florida. there are rows and rows of beach-chairs behind them, with people on their stomachs and backs, sweating into their towels, and then, in the top right corner of the photo, the sea begins to sprawl out behind them. my grandmother is sitting up, with her knees pulled up a bit closer to her body. maybe she was feeling shy in front of the camera. on her head is a bathing cap, neon green and almost fluffy looking. she is wearing a one piece in a swirling black and white geometric pattern. it must be the early sixties. actually maybe the mid sixties because my mother looks like she might be fourteen or so. my mother is stretched out right next to my grandmother, her thigh touching her mother's bent knee. she has on a yellow bikini with ruffled trim. her eyes are closed. her blonde hair is shiny and the ends hit the tops of her shoulders. everything about her looks bright and young and golden. her mouth is parted and her fingers rest on the fabric of her bikini bottoms. she looks perfect. and though it's a photograph, when i stare at it it's as if i'm watching a short flickering film. i see so much movement, i see the moment so completely. i see the force of her youth so clearly.

lucky teeth

2010-07-11T18:42:00.000-07:00

georgia jagger
via ilovemuffins

lara stone
image via in.com

ashley smith
via mademoisellerobot

dents du bonheur— it means "lucky teeth". I read that's what the french call gap teeth. i agree. i really really like them. i think they somehow open up a face, make it brighter, more vulnerable, more honest. i think it looks incredibly sexy too. since the middle ages it has been assumed that women with gap teeth are wanton and lustful... maybe because there is an inherit boldness in imperfection. it's easier to fit in. it's easier to close the gap. but i think the open space between two front teeth should be kept as is, honored and celebrated.

...as if someone turned off a light

2010-07-07T22:30:00.000-07:00

image via wunderground

joyce carol oates said— night comes to the desert all at once, as if someone turned off a light. it's true... things come hard and fast and full in the desert. i used to live in a small town along the texas/new mexico border, just south of las cruces, in the upper mesilla valley. you had to drive a good four miles on a dirt road to get to our house. we lived with the desert right behind us. high plains, creosote bush, feral dogs, mesquite, and broken rusting barbed wire fences. i was a kid. but i remember that darkness came fast and so did the heat. and thunderstorms. in the rain the creosote smell came fast too, damp and strong and earthy. i didn't miss the desert until recently. until i went back to visit. it had been such a long time. and now i have this small unexpected ache, this slow swelling nostalgia.

13 songs for late afternoons

2010-06-02T23:49:00.000-07:00

1. the ghost who walks— karen elson

2. everlasting light— the black keys
3. it girl— brian jonestown massacre
4. you need to die— the morning after girls
5. small talk— the ponys
6. when i'm small— phantogram
7. theme from tomorrowland — cold cave
8. 20Lo7— john & jehn
9. grow-delorean
10. rill rill —sleigh bells
11. alligator — tegan & sara
12. st. michael — cocorosie
13. vcr — xx

(image via ilmfb.wordpress.com)

the library vault

2010-05-19T23:34:00.000-07:00

rijkmusuem library, amsterdam, the netherlands

image via it doesn't get any better than this

new york public library, ny, usa
image via idlethink on flickr

nottebohm library, antwerp, belgium
image via spotted by locals

wren library at trinity college, cambridge, england
image via diary of a dandelion diva

the other day someone who sometimes seems to know me better than myself suggested i look into working at the main branch of our public library. at first i balked at the idea. i imagined myself bored, stunted, and trapped— bloodlessly gathering up misplaced books, tediously putting call numbers on book spines. but then i really thought about it. i have always loved libraries, even the ones lacking grandeur and history, even the ones that are a depressing block of drab concrete from the outside. because on the inside there is always the surprise and triumph of discovery. even if it's a tiny discovery...just one line, from one book that i would have otherwise never come across, that maybe i won't even check out, that maybe i will never come across again in my lifetime, but that one line flaps on and on inside me like bird wings on a windowpane, desperate and relentless, forever remembered. i can spend hours walking the aisles, running my fingers across titles and names i don't know, until something flashes out at me and i stop and take a closer look. i don't get embarrassed to sit on the floor. i like the eerie quiet. i like the smell of paper and metal. i like the feeling that arises when someone else wanders into the aisle that i have been occupying for a long while without anyone else present— it's part irritation, part bewilderment, part relief. i like the stamped due dates, resolute, non-negotiable. i like the lighting, sometimes pale and morbid, sometimes warm and softly yellow. but mostly i guess it's about being surrounded, overwhelmed really, by the hard work of writers... a seemingly endless inventory of writers working out their ideas, obsessing on their characters, their landscapes, their imagined places... fiction, non-fiction, reference, anthologies... it doesn't matter...a writer and a story...everywhere you turn.

bye bye buenos aires

2010-03-20T14:59:00.000-07:00

the "puente de la mujer" footbridge in puerto madero district
image via puertomaderorentals

recoleta cemetary
image via adam goldberg

empanadas!!
image via laylita's recipes

street in palermo district
image via satoristephen

patagonian cavy
image via eyefetch

cafe con leche with media lunas
image via sws9americas

buenos aires. two weeks. not exactly enough time, but a decent enough amount to notice some things, to do some things... hot days, warm nights. the girls are honey skinned, bare legged, beautiful. cafe con leche gets served with a shot glass of water, to clean the palate I suppose? or to hydrate? not really sure, but i love it. purebred dogs are everywhere, so many different breeds, very few mutts, but toy poodles and cocker spaniels were definitely the most popular. tree-lined streets, with broad branches and leaves that arch over the street, like a tunnel of green with sunlight glinting through. we ate lots of ice-cream, almost everyday we had a scoop or two, it melts so much faster than it does at home. the botanical gardens are home to a ton of cats. so is the famous recoleta cemetery— they sleep in the sun and wander among the mausoleums, letting you pet them. the mausoleums are beautiful, many made of marble and glass, you can see the coffins stacked inside. some streets in the city are still cobblestone. sundays are so quiet–they are the best day to walk around. we sat by the rooftop pool every morning and the city looked so massive from up there, just endlessly sprawling. we took hotel room siestas in the late afternoons, after hours and hours of walking all over the city. the wine is delicious and cheap. the empanadas are delicious and cheap. the subway is very hot and very cheap. taxis are everywhere, you never wait long to get one. dinner is eaten very late. mostly we stayed out till 2 or 3 in the morning, not really partying, just drinking wine in the warm night at a sidewalk table, watching people walk by. we fell in love with the patagonian cavys we fed at the zoo, they just wander around freely, grazing in the patches of grass, resting in the sun. they took food so gently, even though they have big rodent teeth. we ate so much meat, it's delicious and cheap. we were were very sad to leave it all behind...

guy bourdin

2010-01-30T16:58:00.001-08:00

this short little film is some kind of heavy-lidded sleep-swollen dream. it's intoxicating and strange and tranquilizing and unsettling... it's so familiar and so terribly unfamiliar at the same time... i think it's magic.

this is punk

2010-01-26T17:44:00.000-08:00

beatrix kiddo/the bride from Kill Bill, image via collider.com

amelie poulain from Amelie

lola from run lola run, image via ricardo cohen

margot tenenbaum from the royal tenebaums, image via style alchemy

thelma and louise, from thelma & louise, image via sara fryd

mathilda lando from leon: the professional, image from autumn in my veins

being punk isn't about the safety pins, or the mowaks or the ripped jackets and the dr. martens, it's about recognizing the weaknesses in the rules that were written for you and deciding to rebel against that...(grossly paraphrased from Susannah Martin, theater director)
i find this idea provocative in its simplicity... i think we have gotten so caught up in what things look like that we sometimes overlook what is quietly or not-so-quietly going on beneath the visual representation. and the thing is that people take on trends and shrug them off, and just because someone is wearing all the "gear" to fit a specific archetype, it doesn't mean that their values and choices line up in agreement with that model... all of the film characters above are "punk", not in a visual sense, but in a philosophical sense... they all are choosing to make up the rules to their own lives, to forge ahead with what they believe, with what seems personally relevant and powerful, without letting the world around them dictate what is right or wrong or appropriate. being punk comes down to something completely bare-bones and essential— the right to individual freedom, the right to not conform to an established order. i have such great admiration for people who live like that, whether it be in sustained periods of time or in quick white hot flashes... and though fictional, i'm greatly moved by and very much value the integrity of these characters and their self-determining, singular identities.

a floral anthology

2010-01-22T18:53:00.000-08:00

ranunculus, image via oh for heaven cakes

dahlias, image via hawkfire

peony, image via mooseyscountrygarden

rhododendrons, image via mooseyscountrygarden

i have loved the dahlia and the rhododendron for a long while now, since i was a child— they covered the hills and gardens of the misty mountain town i spent a good deal of my youth in. my love for the peony and the ranunculus came later, just in the last few years— i see them cut, trimmed of most their leaves, and standing in water in flower shop windows as i walk by, on my way to work or running errands, and they always catch me a bit off guard. i don't love them as i do dahlias and rhododendrons, i can't— they're not imbued with that special savagery and freedom of my childhood, all those rambling and raucous hours that would drift into the twilight...so i love them differently, with less nostalgia, but still somehow with the same spirit.

girls girls girls

2010-01-20T21:05:00.000-08:00

image via retro stitches

image via isledegrande

image via ccity77

image via hear it snap

a catalog of crowds

2010-01-20T20:10:00.000-08:00

image via sfist

did you know that a group of raccoons is called a gaze?

and...
a group of unicorns is called a blessing
a group of ravens is called a murder
a group of mice is called a mischief
a group of owls is called a parliament
... i mean really, how fuckin' ridiculous and awesome are these terms?!!

the dearest doyenne

2010-01-20T19:05:00.000-08:00

image via nubblytwiglet

image via eyesing

iris apfel: a real iconoclast if there ever was one. she's got the irreverent look of a magpie and a renegade— she gives of tones of openheartedness and sincerity, but also she booms with fun and mischief and defiance. she really is the embodiment of what true personal style is all about...because she just doesn't seem to give a damn what other people might think of her.

general utility

2010-01-20T17:17:00.000-08:00

photo by garance dore, found at accidental chic

photo of garance dore via a fashionable life

alessandra colombo via the sartorialist

i guess because it's winter, and it's been raining on and off for days now and yesterday i heard the crack of thunder and saw flashes of lightening, all i can think about is being warm and cozy and comfy. i think all of these looks exhibit what i'm after: perfect layering, neutral color palette, functionality, simplicity combined with individuality, and a bit of androgyny thrown in for good measure. i think all of these girls look practical and self-reliant, but still spirited and free-wheeling. i like that.

outlaws & revolutionaries

2009-12-06T18:59:00.000-08:00

brown berets, image via mexica.net

faye dunaway as bonnie parker, image via los angeles times

che guevara, image via radio tania

patty hearst, image via game revolution

i love that the beret is somehow the hat worn by bad asses.

nature of the beast

2009-11-10T15:26:00.000-08:00

idiots' lion, 'ophelia'

maurizio cattelan's horse, image via pepe casals

polly morgan's fox, image via joseph casciano

thomas grunfeld's 'misfit', image via paperpetual

i'm absolutely awed by these artists and the force of their imaginations. and it may seem impossible to some, but i believe that a deep love and appreciation of animals comes through in each of these exhibits— a keen sense of animals' vulnerability, magnificence, and character. to my knowledge most taxidermy artists use animals donated by vets or owners— animals that succumbed to unpreventable deaths, or animals that were found (roadkill). these creations are provocative, a bit unnerving, quite mesmerizing, and they demand that we consider animals in a new way, a way that hopefully allows us to see what we usually overlook— the details of their originality, purity, and integrity. and hopefully it reminds us how desperately we need them to occupy this world with us, to remind us of all the things we might forget, and to continue to inspire the bigness of our love and imagination.

tea time

2009-10-26T11:27:00.000-07:00

alice at the mad hatter's tea party by john tenniel, via gayleroberts blog

image via venusnaturalis

chelsea green lewyta "swan tea party" print, image via redbubble

i want to go to a tea party— a child's tea party. where there will be plump-bellied teddy bears and stiff-necked dolls sitting across from me at the too small table, and maybe the family dog will be there too, gussied up in a bow-tie, waiting patiently for a few crumbs to fall his way. i will arrive dressed up and full of imagination. i will wear a full-skirted garden dress and shake the paws of teddy bears and shake the little hands of each doll staring at me with forever-wide eyes, and i will say, "pleased to meet you mr. oscar" and "oh, how do you do, ms. dotty ?" and then i will sit down carefully and make polite conversation and daintily eat scones smeared with jam and cream and sip tea without slurping.
...i think that would be a pretty amazing way to spend an afternoon.

animal origins

2009-10-16T16:44:00.001-07:00

"the pearl necklace" by charlotte cory, image found at michael coulson

drawing of bear lady with ribbon by oh my cavalier!

illustration by lou beach for the new york times, 2006

lithograph from 1847 edition of "the public and private life of animals" by j.j. grandville

photo from prada lookbook

best bunnies collage found at dollface design

Anthropomorphism— creepy, captivating and something i am completely obsessed with, particularly when considering it's possibilities, both visually and as a storytelling device. it forces us (meaning human beings) to consider ourselves in an almost carnival fun-house mirror context...where there are truths and there are fictions, but the truths are disturbing and elusive, unforgiving and repetitious...

a sense of shadows

2009-10-15T02:02:00.000-07:00

images via vivat veritas

the fall 2009 lyell lookbook— well, i just think it's styled beautifully and the right wide-eyed puffy-lipped model was chosen and i like the almost gothic-like quality of it all... there is the feeling of glamour and decadence, but also a hint of decay and darkness— a sense of brooding, a sense of shadows

etsy finds!!!

2009-10-14T22:16:00.000-07:00

moss terrariums at greenbriar's shop

pig and tiger print by nicole j. georges at spinster summer's shop

general electric alarm clock at hindvik's shop

"children in paris" collage cards at storiesdivination's shop

1960's marble horse head bookends at uncommoneye's shop

la petite belle

2009-10-14T21:41:00.000-07:00

lea seydoux— i think she is adorable. clean-scrubbed, bare-faced, almost kid-like. but still a bit tousled, still a bit sexy looking. my favorite kind of girl.

your enemy's arrows

2009-10-14T19:58:00.000-07:00

image via new york time out

image via sky gellatly

image via the china arts page

artist: cai guo qiang
exhibit: "i want to believe"
what i think: haunting, overt, bombastic, remarkable

baggage claim

2009-09-27T17:09:00.000-07:00

photo found at apartment therapy

photo found at pointclickhome

photo found on fclo.com

photo found on m.bibelot's flickr

there is no romance in new luggage. there is no story there— no smell, no dings, no mystery, no adventure. an old battered suitcase says so much. it speaks of damage and dignity, exploration and release, substance and whimsy.
not all things should be replaced, not all things should be upgraded to brand-spanking-new.

unsupported transit

2009-09-10T13:28:00.000-07:00

image from croatian wikipedia

animated sequence of "daisy" galloping, by eadweard j. muybridge— an english photographer in the late 1800's who pioneered the development of photographic sequences of moving objects.
in the 1870's muybridge took it upon himself to answer the question of whether or not a horse's hooves leave the ground all at the same time during a gallop. it was proved that they do— it's called "unsupported transit".
he used 12 stereoscopic cameras, taking pictures at one thousandth of a second to prove this fact.
i love the question. i love the experiment. i love the proof. i love the term, "unsupported transit".
i think this sequence of "daisy" is intoxicating and eerie and ghostlike. i like how the man is dressed. i like their echoing shadows. I like how repetitious and fervent and exacting the whole thing is.

still-sweet sadness

2009-09-05T15:35:00.000-07:00

brigitte bardot

vanessa paradis

?

these images make me think of the last stretch of summer— the languishing afternoons of long shadows and dappled light, the hazy glow of warm sun and still air... there is the feeling of slowness, and heat...there is a longing and an ache, a still-sweet sadness.

the good girl

2009-09-05T14:39:00.000-07:00

all of these pieces are crisp and prim, well-cut and polished. they are oh-so-very lady-like, and oh-so-very discreet. and i like that— i like that they aren't trying too hard to be tough or unconventional or brazen, instead they are quietly communicating through their playful but simple details a level of femininity and sophistication that i find incredibly refreshing. and i like very much that these pieces clearly want to celebrate the female form— the pinch of the waist, the slope of shoulders, the rise of the neck. because really, it is lovely to be a girl.
(all of these clothes can be found on modcloth)

etsy finds!!!

2009-08-24T19:22:00.000-07:00

shawl collar swing coat at metrode's shop

pinstriped rabbit art doll at oh my cavalier's shop

madrid chair at reclaim the throne's shop

pyramid pendant gold necklace at michelle chang's jewelry shop

pencil case at little tea party's shop

the right side of the bed

2009-08-24T18:21:00.000-07:00

all images from house to home

right now i really want to figure out what my perfect bedroom would look like. i'm into light colored bedding in cream, or beige or white, uncluttered space, naturalistic accents, battered items alongside the brand new, and a few well-chosen bits of color. i want simplicity and efficiency and comfort. i want ease and tranquility and traces of nostalgia. i wouldn't mind one of these rooms...

underdogs

2009-08-20T02:03:00.000-07:00

photo found on malluworld.org

photo found on autoblog green

photo found on impact lab

so basically, i'm forever amazed by dogs— and these rawboned stray dog hustlers of moscow have taken my amazement to a whole new level. apparently when the soviet union collapsed in the 1990's, industrial complexes were moved from the city center to the suburbs, and this shift forced the stray dogs to change their survival strategies. they had always used the industrial complexes as safe shelters to sleep in at night, but during the day they foraged for food in the city streets where scraps were more accessible and plentiful. but once their shelters were moved to the suburbs, they had to start commuting to the city center to still get to that easy food. so guess what?— they figured out how to use the subway. can it get any more wonderful than that? can it get any more absurd and astonishing? can it get any more real, any simpler? i mean, of course they figured it out, they had to. these are the kind of dogs i'd want to hang out with— duck in and out of shadows with, weave through streets and legs and noise with, learn a few tricks from. these guys have it down, they travel to the city to eat, and then in the evenings they go back to the suburbs. they are like businessmen going to the city to make shit happen, to earn what they need to live. just for a minute i want to let myself imagine them in suits and ties, holding briefcases, serious and tired, preparing themselves for the day ahead. oh yeah, you know what else? they like to just chill out in the subway in the winter to stay warm (enduring a moscow winter can't be fun), and they know what's up in traffic (when to cross, when not to), and they know how to get the last bite of whatever you're eating out of your hand.
check out this video of a little scrapper waiting for his train

that seventies look

2009-08-02T00:06:00.000-07:00

calvin klein ad with a very young brooke shields

photo found here

lou doillon in vanessa bruno ad

amber valletta & georgina grenville in 2001 versace ad

david hamilton photo

i just love that seventies aesthetic. there is sex and haughtiness and gloss and fantasy. there is vulnerabilty and messiness and intrigue. there is softness and titillation and disturbance. through that seventies lens, women look both dangerous and tender—and that is a pretty dicey, but captivating combination.

the ballerina bus

2009-07-31T15:58:00.000-07:00

photo by ernesto bazan

photo from kira craft, style editor of huffington post

photo from the film "ballerina", directed by bertrand normand

photo found on ffffound

my brother loves ballerinas. i think he likes that they look like small deer or foxes— delicate, wide-eyed, lithe-limbed. i think he likes that they are dedicated, structured, and obsessed. i think he likes that they are in some way a throw-back to a different time— symbols of classic training, traditional arts, and the legacy and honor of working hard at what you love.
in the summer-time ballerinas come here from all over the nation to train. and one summer my brother lived with me for a few months. the bus he and i rode to get to work downtown in the mornings was the same bus that all the ballerinas would ride from their dormitories to their ballet school. they would get onto the bus a few stops after ours. they all had hair pulled up into tight buns, eyes exaggerated with make-up, arched backs, long necks, and feet that pivoted outwards. they were always in a big group, and all of a sudden the bus was full of 8 or 10 or 12 magnificent ballerinas. they were like a different species—gorgeous and slight and poised. even in their sweatpants that they pulled over their leotards they made the rest of us look sloppy, like a bunch of slouches just trying to make it through the day.
at the stop where they waited to get on, before the doors of the bus even opened, my brother and i would smile at each other. and then we would stare at them, one by one, as they filed down the aisle of the bus.

grey areas

2009-07-19T15:52:00.000-07:00

modcloth brick lane bag

james perse knit woven dress

le silla suede cutout ankle boots

forever21 zipper accent top

grey is most certainly my favorite color ever.

so fine

2009-07-19T13:49:00.000-07:00

found on models.com, from v man, spring/summer 2009

from harper's bazaar july 2009, photo: terry richardson

found on ffffound.com

found on models.com, from v man, spring/summer 2009

doutzen kroes— she's got glamour down. her face is almost too perfectly pretty, too ideal—the big lips, the big blue eyes, the sloping nose...but somehow she never seems boring. there is some kind of brightness in her, some kind of slyness. she's fine, foxy and sleek. she looks like one of those decadent early 1970's models to me...all that wavy hair, the arched back, the sexed up eyes.

the caravan kind

2009-06-27T13:55:00.000-07:00

photo by dave miller, found @ redbubble

photo by mike angelo, found @ eden online news

photo by dave holden, @ blutopia

photo by debra freeman, found @ flickr

photo by arnhel de serra, found @ the saatchi gallery

the appleby horse fair takes place every june in the town of appleby-in-westmorland, england and has existed as a fair for horse trading since 1685. it is a huge gathering for the romany, gypsy and traveller communities who come with their horses and ponies and caravans. apparently during the fair, horses are everywhere—in the river eden and along its banks, along roadsides, and tethered outside of shops and hotels. the gypsies favor "colored' horses, and so black and white, and brown and white horses seem to dominate the landscape. there is a tradition of washing the horses in the river and swimming them through very deep areas, and making sure to dunk their heads before they are allowed to swim back to the banks to reach land. there is controversy regarding how some treat their horses, in 2007 a horse drowned during a deep swim. the town's population swells form 2,500 to 40, 000 during the week of the fair. because i've never been i can't imagine what it must be like or how i might feel about it. and i would never want to witness cruelty or irresponsible horsemanship, but my guess would be that most people at the fair love horses and that's why they are there. and i do think there is something thrilling and fantastic about this horse fair—the crowds, and the overwhelming number of horses, and the possibilities of which one you might end up making your own, and the river and green fields and grey-blue skies, and people from everywhere who are at once strange and familiar.

in no end of trouble

2009-06-26T23:07:00.000-07:00

i love characters prone to misadventure and blunders, accidental errors and comic catastrophe. and i love them even more if, despite their propensity for trouble-making, they are really proper, polite, and innocent fellows who just want to please. i love paddington bear because he is known to "try so hard to get things right", but he just can't seem to stop getting into trouble. i love him because he likes marmalade sandwiches and cocoa, and he always addresses someone as "mr." or "mrs." or "miss", and he is an immigrant stowaway who arrives in london from "darkest peru". i think paddington is such a charming bear, so adorable and silly in his hat and jacket and wellington boots (which unfortunately he is not wearing in this image!) i want to invite him over for tea and help him unpack that old battered suitcase and get into trouble with him.

cars that go boom

2009-06-22T12:42:00.000-07:00

1971 amc javelin sst
photo from cascade rambler club

1964 plymouth barracuda
photo from cardomain

1971 ford torino cobra

1971 holden monaro hq
photo from histomobile

i like the look of "muscle" cars. i like the term too. i think they look like small sharks, tough and scrappy and whip-quick. they have an underdog quality to them, a rough and ready feel, an almost bandit persona. they look like good times and adventure and close calls and moment-to-moment living.

floral elements

2009-06-16T13:49:00.000-07:00

forever21 corset top

marni printed canvas tote

rebecca taylor silk tunic dress

maybe because it's summertime, maybe it's because i've been reading about flowers and re-potting houseplants and imaging how nice it would be to have a proper garden, maybe it's because it's hard to walk past the farmer's market stands and not want to buy every single cut flower– all those tulips, peonies, irises, dahlias, and cala lilies just waiting for my hands to reach for them...but whatever the reason is, i can't get enough of floral prints.

flapper style

2009-06-13T12:50:00.000-07:00

found on laracorsets.com

found on the flapper girl

these girls were the bee's knees...they smoked and drank. their skirts were short and their faces full of makeup. they stayed up too late and danced too long. they kissed and swore and cut their hair off. and they didn't give a damn. they were irreverent and boyish and bold and they completely changed what being a woman meant.

cuts of cloth

2009-06-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

tattersall

herringbone

ikat

damask

gingham

i love the names of textile patterns– their oddness, the sound of their syllables ringing together, the stories behind their names, their definitions and parameters.

bruises & scrapes

2009-06-10T17:36:00.000-07:00

in a small town in france i learned how to ride a bicycle that looked very much like this bike. it was a town in the middle of nowhere— surrounded by forest, it was a place of thin roads, vegetable gardens, and quaint cottages. we lived there for about four months. my mother's boyfriend grew up in this town. we lived with his parents— always in an apron, his mother cooked rabbit stews and his father spent all day with his back bent in the garden. i was 7 years old, or maybe 8. it was summertime and my brother quickly made friends with the other children that lived on that same road, and together they wildly roamed through the forest— picking blackberries, lighting firecrackers, chasing after deer and foxes and squirrels. they would come back with berry-juice stained lips and tired limbs and secret smiles. we didn't speak french and they knew very little english, but somehow that didn't matter with my brother and his friends. and because i hadn't made my own friends, sometimes i would follow them, and they would let me. the only girl, and younger— they let me struggle to keep up and laughed when i stumbled and took turns jumping out from behind trees and bushes to scare me. if i wasn't panting after them, i walked the quiet roads with my mother or followed my almost-grandfather around his garden, helping him pick snails off his lettuce. and then one day i found that bicycle in the shed in the back of the garden. it belonged to my almost-grandmother, it was much too big, a bit battered and rusty. but i thought it was magnificent. i didn't ask anyone, i didn't tell anyone. i just took it out of the garden and wheeled it to the road. our road wasn't flat, there was a slight incline and so once i figured out how to balance and pedal (without sitting on the seat), i would just let the bike coast down the little hill (now sitting down on the seat) and stick my legs out and up to avoid the spinning pedals. then i would walk the bicycle up the hill and do it over and over again. i spent days and days like this. nobody asked me to stop or be careful. but when my mother saw the bruises and scrapes up and down my shins and knees from the banging pedals that were somtimes just too fast, she ran her hands down my legs and laughed and said—"i hope they don't leave scars, because some day that will matter. some day, you will care about that."

holiday time!

2009-05-30T16:51:00.000-07:00

belize...all i can say is, it's about time.

snap shots

2009-05-17T23:32:00.000-07:00

from: elle (italia) june 2004, "alta temperatura"

from: vogue (italia) may 2008

from: elle (us) september 2003, "before night falls"

from: elle (italia) may 2007, "brasile"

from: flare (canada) october 2006, "best of milan"

just a few photos from a random selection of editorials i like...

the jungle is obscene

2009-05-15T17:43:00.000-07:00

a print from ernst haeckel's 1905 wanderbilder (travel pictures) series, image from ragesoss on flickr

iquitos, december 8, 1980

a still day, sultry. inactivity piled on inactivity, clouds staring down from the sky, pregnant with rain; fever reigns; insects taking on massive proportions. the jungle is obscene. everything about it is sinful, for which reason the sin does not stand out as sin. the voices in the jungle are silent; nothing is stirring, and a languid immobile anger hovers over everything. the laundry on the line refuses to dry. as a part of a conspiracy, flies suddenly descend on the table, their stomachs taut and iridescent. our little monkey was wailing in his cage, and when i approached, he looked and wailed right through me to some distant spot outside where his little heart hoped to find an echo. i let him out, but he went back into his cage, and now he is continuing to wail there.

— by werner herzog, excerpts from his diary entries from the forthcoming book, conquest of the useless: reflections from the making of fitzcarraldo.

nailin' it

2009-05-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

easy rider, 1969

vertigo, 1958

harold and maude, 1971

blowup, 1966

cool hand luke, 1967

some movie posters just nail it...and these ones certainly do. i think there is something that just really works about red, yellow, and orange hues with basic black and white... it's a no-nonsense, straight-forward look that kind of flashes right at you. i like that. i think all of these posters would look great together, in different frames, hanging on the same wall...or at least in the same room.

12 songs for spring fever

2009-05-10T19:05:00.000-07:00

(photo from weheartit.com)

1. all my colours- echo & the bunnymen

2. train song- ben gibbard & feist

3. the right equipment- the movies

4. je m'appelle jane- jane birkin & mickey 3d

5. november was white, december was grey- say hi

6. i'm on fire- electrelane

7. little lover's so polite- silversun pickups

8. faces- yeah yeah yeahs

9. lose you- peaches

10. alone again- teenager

11. indie rokkers- mgmt

12. gallop- jeremy jay

creature comforts

2009-05-01T17:57:00.000-07:00

boy by band of outsiders oversized raglan

madame a paris dot tunic

boy by band of outsiders paperbag pant

rodebjer morella knit top

3.1 phillip lim handkerchief collar mini dress

la garconne: where i will be shopping when i hit the big time

soft-porn eyes

2009-05-01T00:18:00.001-07:00

stacey mark's photographs seem anchored in the eyes—the exact mood of her photos is distinctively contained in them. everything you need to know is precisely there, in the eyes, it doesn't matter what the props are, or who the girl is, or what kind of hotel room it's in, or what kind of lighting is set up...the mood stays singular and the same, emanating right there out of those heavy-lidded, soft-porn eyes.

sweet thing

2009-04-27T22:09:00.000-07:00

photo from garance dore

i think this chick is a knockout. seriously, she is flawless. she is like a jane birkin replica...like some perfect polaroid from the 70's... one part cowboy, one part sex kitten, one part california dream...and a whole lotta sweet thing.

[she is australian and awesome! and her name is jade sarita arnott

and she has her own label, arnsdorf]